He laughed shaking his head. "What — what do you mean? I'm looking right at it. It's blue. A blue stone." He held it between his fingers putting it up to the light. "See? I'm not crazy." He laughed to buffer his unease.

 "Oh my god." She put her hand over her mouth and turned away. "You really believe it. You really see it don't you?" She shook her head, when she turned toward him there were droplets of tears lodged in her lashes. "You really see a blue stone? Hear it speak to you?"

 He looked down at his palm. The stone seemed to wink back at him, it's blue depths swirling in defiance. He felt his own eyes tear. His knees hit the couch and he sat automatically. "Yeah. Yeah, I do." He swallowed the lump of mucus that seemed to clog his throat. "Am I crazy, Mary?" He sat, still holding the stone/bottle cap between his shaking hands. He felt the cushion depress and her hand on his back.

 "I'm sorry I got so angry. That wasn't very professional. Honestly, I thought you were fuckin' with me."

 He released a snort of laughter before wiping the mixture of fluids on the back of his hand, then his jumpsuit. "It wasn't a professional visit. It's alright. Are you going to turn me in?"

 "I told you it wasn't like that. I'd like to recommend you to a friend of mine. He deals with cases of dissociation and projection. I could recommend some medication. It might be a good idea to stay with someone over the next week or so. Do you have someone you could stay with?"

 "Yes." He lied. He kept running everything through his mind. A bottle cap. A damn bottle cap. He stared down at it again, but still saw a stone. That bitch. It was her again. It had to be. She stood and went to her desk, taking out a small pad. She sat in the large chair and began to scribble.

 "I'm not crazy Mary. I'm not." He saw her head pop up out of the corner of his eye. "I know what I've seen and I didn't just jump to this conclusion. It's her. I know it is. And I haven't told you everything yet."

 He sighed and looked down at the floor. "When I was a kid, I used to think it would protect me." He stopped and licked his lips. His breath came out in a shaky stutter. "This one time, I was very angry. I wished for some things — awful things. The stone got hot — really hot. And when I looked at it, it was red. Full looking. Like it was full of blood. And they came true. All of them."

"All of what?" She asked, her face growing ashen.

 "When I saw your face that day, I stayed awake for hours wondering what happened to you. I was so angry. I wished for it Mary. My parents, my teacher — I can't even remember her name, how sad is that?" He chuckled again and, though it was difficult he looked her right in the eye before saying it. "And your Mom and Ernie. I wished for them to suffer. I wished for them to die. Every single one. And every single one died." She sat silently, her features widened with horror.

 "Don't you see? You didn't kill them. You might have pulled the trigger, but it wasn't you. It was me. That's why you don't remember. She made you do it."

 She didn't move right away. She looked down at her hands as if she had forgotten what she was doing. The words began to sink in. Abruptly, she opened the drawer and slammed the pad and pen inside.

"Mary -"

 "HANNAH!" She screamed, the hysterical screech of a cornered harpy. Her eyes were blazing within her flushed face. She stood slowly, placing her fingertips on her desk as if preparing to pounce. "My name is Hannah! Get OUT! Get out of my office. You are never to contact me again. Don't visit, don't call.  I recommend you contact a professional to help you deal with these delusions. And it damn better not be one with this address. If I ever see you again, I will have you committed and Baker Act you into the next lifetime, do you understand?"

"Hannah, I-"

"I don't want to hear another word form your mouth. Get out." She turned her eyes toward her desk, pointing him away.

 He hesitated for only a moment before standing. When he reached the door, he glanced over his shoulder. He still hoped that she might be kidding. Once look at her face confirmed what he already knew deep down to be true. She was most certainly not kidding.

 After he left, Hannah sat at her desk for a while unmoving. She wasn't sure how long. Then she stood and retrieved a dusty bottle of scotch from the space behind two of her Psych books, a recommendation from Dr. Allman. She cut the seal and took a hefty swig, grimacing as it rolled over her taste buds. Then she put her head in her hands and wept.